


Nyctophilia

by Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson



Series: Jessica's Happy Places [5]
Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Nyctophilia</em><br/>noun: love of darkness or night, finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness.</p><p>3am Hell's Kitchen is pitch black, despite the moonlight. Just how Jessica likes to see the city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nyctophilia

Darkness surrounded her. The lights on the street were out and, for once, Jessica found peace in her mind. Silence was all around and she looked up, staring at the moon, glowing silver in the clouds that surrounded it.

There was no need to recite anything. There was no flashing lights to set off her PTSD; well there was that damn billboard on the other side of town, but she was avoiding that for a reason. There were no sudden cackling laughs that would send her insane.

She was alone out here, and it was welcomed.

Reaching out, Jessica watched her hand disappear into the darkness in front of her. With it, went memories – of sharing a bed with Kilgrave, of sharing a bed with Trish. Seeing Luke with women, being caught outside the bar.

Memories slipped from her mind, and Jessica stared upwards, her eyes unseeing to the stars above.

This could be classed as a happy place, she mused as she glanced around, finally taking in just how dark it was.

But 3am was like that, even in the city that never sleeps.

A shudder ran down her spine as she thought of everyone she might bump into tonight – the Russian mafia, perhaps, or even the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen – before she snorted, turning to the side. No matter who she met, Jessica could handle her own.

As if to calm her own mind, she kicked a trash can lid that was on the side of the road, watching it glint away. The foot shaped dent in the metal caused a soft smile to slide onto her face as she glanced upwards.

Fire escapes.

A mere jump and she was resting on the cold metal, sitting on the edge and licking her lips.

A smile was on her face as she watched around.

The moonlight bathed everything in silver, making everything seem almost ethereal. Like a ghost town.

The smile merely grew on her face as she kicked her legs softly, letting her eyes close.

This was heaven. Silence, darkness, whiskey.

Her hands froze as she fumbled with her bag, glancing at the metal inside. Slowly, she closed it, shaking her head, the smile only growing. Her muscles were slowly unknotting, untensing for the first time in a long time.

“I don’t need it. You have no hold on me here.” The words were a scream leaving her lips, almost hysterical as her lips arched into a smile.

A soft laugh escaped her before jumped down, rolling before bursting into a run. The laugh only got louder, happier as she sprinted more, tripping over her own feet and wincing at the pain of things digging into her feet.

Maybe Kilgrave did have a hold on her, maybe he did _own_ her.

At least, tonight, tonight was her’s, and she would keep hold of it until 7am, until the sun rose and the day began once more.

For four more hours, Jessica Jones would rise in the darkness.


End file.
